Rosalind uttered a little cry and turned swiftly. The bulky figure of Reginald Williams was moving toward them.
"I'll hide," said the boatman cheerfully. "Try and save another dance, will you? Don't forget."
He slipped away from her and disappeared behind a thick clump of shrubbery. A moment later Reginald arrived.
"I've been looking all over for you, Rosalind," he exclaimed. "What are you doing out here?"
"I wanted some air."
"And you came alone?"
"Yes—alone."
"Tom Witherbee was looking all over for you at the end of that last dance," said Reggy petulantly. "You're not treating any of us decently to-night, Rosalind. First you won't dance, then you run away."
"I didn't wish to come in the first place."
"But you always used to dance. You used to dance with me, too. I know I'm not much good at it, but—oh, hang it, Rosalind! I'm having a rotten time. There isn't a girl in the whole crowd that'll dance with me. They all ask me to please sit down and talk to them, and they look at me as if there was something the matter with me."